Liddy's Year in Review

On Sunday (1-15-12), I turned 12 and I’m just hitting my prime. This year has been quite the adventure with and without the Food Lady (Ya’ll know her as Whitney, but let’s use FL for short). Birthdays are time of reflection of what I’ve learned this year; what did I do that I really liked; looking ahead to a new adventure.

So, you ask, “what does a dog learn?” After I mastered, sit, lay, roll over, and paw in 2007, the Food Lady stopped our morning school. She obviously realized I excelled at learning but here are a few observations from my 11 years on earth.

• You don’t have to like Mondays. I hate Mondays and at 12 I don’t think I’ll ever start liking them until the FL gets to start taking me to work whose chances are somewhere between slim and never going to happen. Don’t worry; she’s working on a mental condition so I can be her therapy dog. Ya’ll know she’s crazy enough to pull it off.
• Running like you don’t have a care in the world is really good medicine for the soul. I’m getting a little older and my body parts don’t work like the used to. I run on three legs because of my knee caps, but I love every minute of time outside with FL. I especially loves when the takes me in a car to a park or hiking. 




Me and the family on a hike near Highlands, NC


• The best friend you’ll ever have has thumbs (and is your sugar-mama). Seriously, I will cut you if you try and take her….she’s mine and that is that. I haven’t forgiven her for posting the hippo video on youtube or certain pictures she posted on Facebook. Forgiveness is a process and revenge is so much more fun.
• Oral hygiene is important. Due to some poor oral care from my previous years and because I’m a yorkie, I am starting to lose some teeth, but I don’t let it stop me from eating all my favorite foods—bacon, raw veggies, cooked veggies and GREENIES. I also don’t let my questionable breath stop me from playing my favorite human game—sneak my serpent tongue into a facial orifice. (Apparently, my breath is rank to you humans—trust me in the dog world it smells like roses. I love to roll around in bird poop so I know what I’m talking about.)

Hair only a mother could love

• It takes a village to keep me in the level of care I am accustomed to. I am so thankful to all the people who watch me while Food Lady has to work late or is out of town especially since I’m scared to fly. FL has been going to Houston a lot….planes…not my thing. You all do a great job and I really know I’m loved (even though every time FL comes to pick me up I go into my high pitch bark---I’m just telling her how much of a good time I had and how much I missed her). A special thanks to Mary Perez (and Rob Dooley), Jennifer Daniel (and boys--Ian, Conner and Spencer), Nicole Storey, Kelly Bennett, Ronnie Husbands, Cory Barnes, Charlie Rulick and Anna Frueler.

As far as what I was up to in 2011….Here is a short recap.

Let’s begin with and end. Last year the Food Lady and some of her friends who have four-legged friends of mine threw me an absolute bash for my 11th birthday. We had so much so that I won’t need a party again for another year. Below are a few pictures from that party:

Can you see me?  This is my hunting jacket and it is ever so warm.

I had so much fun I passed out at my own party

Some friends playing at my party

Charlotte had one of the coldest winters on record and I spent more time in a sweater than I really wanted. I prefer au naturelle .

(Note this picture is from 2010, but you are smart people I think you will get the drift.)

In the spring several humans got married—Emily and Jonathan; Whitney and Tim; Jarrett and Bryce; Chad and Stacy. I wasn’t invited, but then they’d have to invite all the dogs and that can be an unruly party. I got to stay with some of my best pals—Winston and Tex when FL was out of town.



This is all of us together at my house and yes, there is no room for the Food Lady when I have friends spend the night.



I've been very busy on the social scene with the Tennis ladies and different dog events like Pet Paloosa. The tennis team isn't winning any games, but they do have a reputation for having the best tailgates in the league.

At Jackalope Jack's

Who says they need a dalmation?

This fall the Food Lady began dating another human.  He lives in Texas and goes by the name of Chuck.  Quite frankly, I call him the Distraction, but I'm growing fond of him.  I make him drive me places and I especially enjoy being the center of his attention.  He's a keeper.

For me the fall means Blessing of the Pets.  I don't think FL was supposed to take this shot, but what can I say, I am her muse. I spent Thanksgiving with the family and Christmas with Mary, Rob, Tex and Winston because the FL went to Key West with her sister (back to that whole...I don't fly thing)

Well, ya'll I wish each of you a great 2012.  And, if at all possible don't let what happened to me in the picture below happen to you.  Bows and pink were never my thing.  Cheers to a bow and pink free year!

Crafty's Corner

So I've started to get a little crafty again.  Summer of 2010 I got rid of all the craft projects I had started, but never finished.  I've been collecting cork for years in hopes of doing somethings with them one day.  The internet can be a wonderful and dangerous place to anyone who is looking for a "simple" project.

Sit back for a sidebar story.....Some of my corks went to an unnamed friend's 30th birthday present.  I made him a cork board out of the corks.  My pinky and ring fingers went numb for 12 hours because I sawed each cork in half so they would lay properly inside the frame.  Two years later, I am enlightened to the fact that my birthday present never made the car ride home and ended up in a friend's garage which was later placed in the trash when this friend with the garage moved.  It is not the worst thing in the world he has done, but let's just say it ranks in his top 5. 

I've never been quite happy about the cork wreaths that I see until I cam across this one on Pinterest (otherwise known as my new obsession). Scroll down to the middle.  She has a lot of other great wreath ideas.

If you think about making this one, I offer the following tips:

• It's going to take a lot of corks. From the picture below, you will see that I ran out.
• Figure out how you want to mount the wreath before starting the endeavor.  I ran wire through the foam and then wrapped it around the wreath.   From there I looped some ribbon to the back of the wire in order to hang the wreath.
• Champagne corks work nicely too.
• I'm not confident that the toothpicks are going to stay in long term and some may require some glue.
• And yes, my hands are sore from jamming toothpicks into cork, but again, I think it was totally worth it.

UPDATE 1-18-12:  Thanks to my friend Nicole, I was given enough corks to finish out the wreath.  I think it came out better than I had expected!

It's All in the Kraut. UPDATED

First let me say that this is my first post completely written from my phone.
My friend Nicole is in a CSA (Community Supported Agriculture) and she and another friend split a weekly share of vegetables. Sometimes this means that as her friend we have a lot of veggies to help her eat. If you have been following me on facebook you'll know that we tried P. Allen Smith's Aunt Genny's recipes for sauerkraut.  It would be the picture with just the jars.
It should be stated that I don't eat sauerkraut so Cory and Nicole thought that it was overcooked and too sweet (sidebar: Nicole has her fake sugar labeled as real sugar and she has no real sugar in her house so we used brown sugar).
Nicole was again given two heads of cabbage so we are trying this sauerkraut thing again except this time we are doing it the old fashioned way and fermenting before we jar. The picture is with the bowl and the brick.  This was on it's first day. We have at least 3 more to go. Check back and I'll keep you posted on the Kraut progress.



Day one



Our first attempt

Update:  12-9-11

All I want for Christmas is an air freshener.

I think it is a fine line between rotting and fermenting as my back bedroom smells of cabbage and muck.  I've been skimming as the directions say and thus far, the process doesn't make me want to start eating it.  I find it interesting that most people really don't know what goes into the food that they love.  We are creatures of convenience.  For instance, if I actually had to kill my meat, I'd be a vegetarian.  I just don't think I could do it.  Thinking about killing my meat does make me eat less meat.  Yesterday, I had a Chick-fil-a sandwich which was my first fast food in quite sometime.  I've been consciously trying to put more vegetables in my life and for some reason yesterday my body was craving a Chick-fil-a sandwich with extra pickles. My body must be crazy because not more than 30 minutes after eating it I felt awful (physically---not emotionally guilty for eating meat kind of way).  Back to the Kraut....I'm out of town this weekend and I can only imagine what I will be coming back to but do not fear, I'll post it.

Update: 12-30-11
The Kraut resides on the back porch since I got back from Key West.  I walked in the door and was bold over by the smell of sweaty gym socks baking in mayonnaise on a late August afternoon.  It has taken two days, three candles,  and many, many simmers of rosemary (not to mention the Febreeze because I fear my clothes smell foul) to bring my house back to it's normal odor.  No one was around to "skim the scum" during the holiday so the mold is something out of a movie that I swear could take over the world.  I'll post a picture of it tomorrow....it's bad people--real bad.

Take aways from this experience:

• It is good to see some of my friends take an interest in food preservation.  I think that if we all did it more we would each care about the work that goes into food preparation. Perhaps, the friends and I should stick to the simple things like jams.
• I need more research on when mold turns to fermentation.  If you have any idea when this happens, please let me know.  My Betty Crocker Guide was no help.  Let's face it, friends don't like it when you accidentally poison them.
• I prefer Aunt Ginny's recipe.  It is scum free.  Scum is still gross and even if they changed the name to "precious potent lollipops" I still wouldn't want to do it.

There is no way this screams, "Eat me! I am a German delicacy"

Updated 1-18-12
So last Saturday was intersting for the kraut.  I wanted to reclaim my favorite white mixing bowl so the kraut had to go.  I finished reading "The Dirty Life: A Memoir of Food, Farming and Love" by  Krstin Kimball and was inspired to dig a hole if I could not have a farm of my own.  The kraut needed to go and my little 5x5 garden could use some added mold (anyway, I didn't want Liddy to eat it and get sick).  When I went to dump the kraut in to my two foot hole, I noticed that it didn't look so bad.  It didn't smell so bad and it didn't burn my tongue when I touched it.  All I could hear was Nicole's voice in my head telling me that it would be wasteful to bury the kraut so I scooped some of the kraut back out and proceeded to was it off and jar it.  I've had a taste. It's ok.  Nicole thinks it is a bit salty.  I did not can it because I pulled it out of the dirt.  Still, this is not on my list of things I ever want to do again.  That was a lot of work for one jar of kraut.

From the farming flower child who is my new hero to playing with tigers

Again I am amazed at the amount of time that passes between posts.  I come up with the great ideas to share and then never seem to get around to making time to write them down.   Well not to muddle the point let's get to the next entry. 

Back to back weekends in November I visited two colleges and these two institutions could not have been more different.  First, I went with Anna and the 2014 Circle de Luz girls (click on the link if you want more information about the organization) to Warren Wilson College .  These girls are rising sophomores and this is their fourth college visit.  When Anna first approached me about going to WWC, my response was, "but it will take like a day to get the patchouli oil off".  Every one I have ever known to graduate from WWC has a certain air of Asheville and wannabe post modern hippie that my use of the stereotype is not unfounded.  Don't get me wrong, the stereotype lives, but it was not without challenge or has taken a new unpredictable facet.  For instance, yes, I did see a kid come to lunch barefoot and in his bathrobe and yes our lovely small private school educated, from New Jersey wearing a hat that tripled as a scarf and gloves in the design of a frog did give off a certain element of "peace to all" vibe.  BUT my friends, I was completely floored by my new hero (I think her name is Kate) who does her work study at the campus FARM (Everyone at WWC has to work on campus if they live on campus-commune-esque and also do 100 hours of community service before graduating).  Kate killed her own turkey for Thanksgiving last year after killing chickens at school.  She rules because our turkey came from Bojangles!  Below are pictures from the farm.  My thirty-something self wants to go back to college just so I can farm.



I giggled like a school girl over the "piggery"



Seriously, doesn't it make you want a little piggy as a pet?

Why I probably won't get a pig as a pet.

The very next weekend I found myself in Tigertown, South Carolina, otherwise known as Clemson.  I went with my friend Charlie to an alumni event.  Friday we hung out with his friends from graduate school and Saturday we bounced from tailgate to tailgate to tailgate. 

Just for your imagery...boing...boing...boing.

We went to the game, but actually never went into the game.  My day included two outfit changes (I am now the proud owner of a discounted Clemson t-shirt) and hating my feet by the end of the day. (note to self:  Boots are cute.  Boots with heals are very cute. Walk in boots with heals can be done, but not for 7 hours).  It was a great game against Wake Forest and we watched the end while debating whether spending $42 for a jersey for a 2-yr old was worth the price for the cuteness factor Charlie would get from watching him wear it--we concluded that Clemson fans were crazy if they paid that much for a throw away jersey. 

I saw a lot of farmer-types at Clemson and perhaps a few that have killed or attempted to kill a deer, but I guarantee you they are not as brave as my new hero Kate and killed their own turkey for Thanksgiving.  Enjoy some shots of an absolutely gorgeous football day.

The stadium before the crowd descended.

Now that is what I call a tailgating MACHINE.  Totally a "Roof is on Fire" kind of party

Charlie and his grad school friends. Guess which one went deer hunting the next weekend?

Eat like an Egyptian

I was reminded this week that I am failing misserably at this whole blog project and goal I have set for myself and that well.  So, I'll get back to it and someone else can decide if they are entertaining or not.

As most of you know in 2009 I went to Egypt.  It was a once in a life time kind of thing....yada, yada, yada.  Out of it came amazing memories and some truly great friendships.  Earlier this year the Charlotte Observer wrote about this restaurant in the University Area that was a breakfast American kind of place with Egyptian items on the menu called The Bigger Bite.  I posted the article to facebook and Josh quickly responded that we needed to try it.  Josh and I were desperate for a little "brother and sister time" so we tried it out last night.   Obviously, we were not in Egypt because at 8pm we were the only ones in the place.  Dinner starts at 9 in Egypt or at least anytime we ate.  Josh also told me that I could not tell Karim, our gracious waiter, that the mural on the wall was not an accurate depiction of the Sphinx and the Pyramids.  The Nile was right in front of the Pyramids and the Sphinx sat in the middle.  I still think it is a sign of the times when across from the sphinx there is a KFC and Pizza Hut.  Seriously!!



Yes, I'll take my pizza togo for the horse ride home.

(Note: There are extremely few horse and buggies in Cairo and I don't think the horses could take driving in Cairo as it is not for the weak at heart. Tourists taking pictures of the few that they see is not helping the Egyptian cause of modernization.)

 Well, putting their mural aside, there was Arabic music playing in the background and some Arabic soap opera on the television which was refreshingly familiar.  For dinner, we had the Egyptian sampler and koshari.  On the sampler was foul, some type of eggplant dip, falafel and tahina and hummus.  I asked Josh what foul was and he said, "You know street food.  Didn't you have it when we were in Cairo when we stayed out......oh yeah"  With one eyebrow cocked, I replied, "When do you think I was ever allowed on the street by myself".  In all actuality Mona and her mother did take me to walk around on the street and it was one of my favorite times in Egypt.  We had ice cream instead of foul and they  indulged me into stepping into an Egyptian bakery which was on my "must-do" list.



Pita lickin' good!

The main course was koshari and we had it mild and topped with shawarma beef.  I don't remember having this one either, but it may have been at the Galabaya  Party and I just didn't notice because there was SO much food.  It is rice, pasta, lentils a spicy sauce (you can get a hot sauce but Josh didn't think it was hot enough--I liked the mild) and then it is topped with shawarma beef or chicken. 

Probably our only disappointment of the night were our after dinner drinks.  Now don't get me wrong, Karim makes a mean cup of tea but there was a little part of me that wanted a rose tea or mint tea in a clear glass or a Turkish coffee to finish off what I thought was a great dinner.

If you go looking for the Bigger Bite, it is on JW Clay Blvd and Hw 29 near Nona's Bakery and Panera Bread.  I know Josh and I'll be back and I'll be ignoring geographical accuracy of historical structures and listening to a little Umm Kulthum .

What Have You Seen This Century

Picture it....Huntersville 1911. I can only imagine that the population was less than 1000 and there was a railroad and maybe a mill and a store front.  The year 1911 is when my friend Cara Holbrook was born.  This week I have been asked how I came to meet Cara because we'll let's face it we make an unusual pair. If memory serves me correctly, she retired from teaching about the same time I started putting together sentences--the two word variety.  To put it into perspective, she graduated from Catawba College in 1934.

Ms. Holbrook came into Town Hall one day and was all upset that her neighbor was going to encroach on her land.  She wanted someone from the Town to come out and survey her line to make sure her neighbor was doing everything right.  Planners are not surveyors, but she had an Aunt Gen quality (technically my great aunt, but on that side of the family you don't get the Aunt title until a generation has passed) so I agreed to meet her.

I realized she lived alone, so I went back to check on her from time to time during lunch or after work and it was through those visits that I learned a lot about her, what times were like in Huntersville before the building boom of the 1990's and 2000's, teaching in Mecklenburg County and her family.  Ms. Holbrook had never married and was very devoted to her parents and her sisters.  Probably the most depressing thing she has had to do is give up driving.  It hasn't been until recently, that age has caught up with her and you no longer see her going to the post office for her mail (seriously, crossing Gilead Road at times is similar to Frogger). But, she still plays cards, never misses church and has people to take her where she needs to go.

My visits began to become sporadic and this summer she left me a message at Town Hall, but didn't say what she needed. I rushed down to her house only to find out that she needed my address (if you know me at all you know I tend to lean towards the worst in those situations.  Mom stopped calling at 6am because I kept answering the phone, "who died?").

Her church was throwing her a birthday party and after she got over the shock of her age being announced in front of the whole congregation, she was getting used to the idea of a celebration.  I don't think I was aware that she was 100 (or getting close).  I promised to mark my calendar and attend.

Saturday we celebrated Ms. Holbrook.  Aside from enjoying the birthday of one really cool woman, there was church punch involved.  I just can't get enough of good (non-kool-aid) church punch. and will admit to cutting myself off at four glasses. 

Ms. Holbrook officially turns 100 on September 1st.  Happy Birthday to a woman who gives me such great inspiration!

I did not write the name of this book down, but it was about the history of North Mecklenburg.  The Holbrook's have been around this area for a while.

My little escape artist

As most of you know, I share my life with a four pound Yorkie who often lets me know who wears the pants in the family.  They are size XXS.



One of her favorite spots...riding the car while the human operates it

In our five years together, Liddy has gone looking for me a couple of times.  She suffers from separation anxiety and I have a whole routine of treat finding just to make my exit from the house a whole lot less stressful on the both of us.

Last night, I asked my friend Jennifer if she would watch Lids (her nickname) because I have a Town Board meeting.  She reminded me to block the cat door as I had forgotten that the last time I left Liddy at her house, I returned to an empty house and rising anxiety levels after realizing that my dog was nowhere to be found.  Last night at a bridal shower I retold several of Liddy's escape stories.  These escapes are why she is microchipped.  Her original escape was from her last owners to me so this dog has a history of wandering.



This was Liddy the day I found her on September 5, 2006

Fast forward to this morning.  Something told me to put Liddy's harness on her which has her dog tag with my phone number.  I drop Liddy off and block the cat door with the tub of cat food and a child's stool.  I do our little leaving treat routine and head into work.

Phone rings.  "Hello," I say.  Man on the phone says, "I have your lost dog".  With exhaustion I say, " @#$-it she got out again through the cat door."  We exchange pleasantries about where I am going to pick up my little Houdini as I exit the interstate and return back to the Chantilly neighborhood.  When I get there, Mr. Williams, a local contractor, is using a rope for a leash and Liddy is standing as far from him as possible.  I didn't ask if she was nice to him when she found him.  I assumed she growled a little.  When she spots me and my scent, her eyes light up into the most innocent expression that seems to say, "What took you so long to get here? I went looking and I knew I would find you. Silly human, we are never to part."

I return to the scene of Liddy's crime to realize I had been out maneuvered by the cat, Mae, who has taken to living outside since her life companion Stuart went to the Great Meadow.  She had moved my mound and Liddy must have followed. What a four pound dog can't move, a ten pound (guessing here) cat can.

Liddy got a lecture on how being late for work is bad considering I do all of the income earning in our relationship and that if she really wanted me to keep her in the once a day Greenies lifestyle that she is accustomed to she is going to have to do her part and stay where I leave her.  I'd like to think that she learned a lesson today and that by rushing off to bed she is punishing herself.  But let's face it, she's full from the Greenie I just gave her and there was no rushing.  I wonder which one of us is actually learning the lesson.